


Night Triptych

by tea_the_turtleduck



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Sisterhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_the_turtleduck/pseuds/tea_the_turtleduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna remembers three childhood moments with Elsa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Triptych

_“You’re my first love, my first kiss… and no one knows it but us.”_

—Frog Loves Christy, Ann Wuehler

She still remembered it, that first kiss.

It was night, the entire room covered in blue. A gentle color, Anna thought, soft and comforting, like the down in her mattress. A color that reminded her of whispery touches, of a pleasantly cool breeze. She was aware, even then, that there were different types of blue: the blue of the day-sky, inevitably tied up with sunshine and possibilities of mischief and adventure; the blue of the fjord, sometimes terrifying but mostly making her think of eternity; and the blue of the night, the blue that makes everything gentler, gentle like the rolling cadence of her sister’s voice when she spoke. Anna loved them all, but she thought she might just love the blue of the night better.

After all, it was the blue that reminds her best of Elsa.

Elsa always seemed at ease during nighttime. During the day, she was busy being the perfect princess and the perfect sister, a combination of the prim and proper lady that she was being groomed to be and the mischief-maker that froze their nanny’s behind or their tutor’s tea just to make Anna laugh. Juggling these two sides seemed to be a feat that only Elsa—beautiful, wonderful, amazing Elsa—could pull off.

Anna, well, Anna had only been able to play just one part, that of a troublemaker. She didn’t have the grace or skill that Elsa possessed but Anna never did mind too much. After all, she wasn’t the heir and so there was no pressure on her to be the perfect princess. But more than that, Elsa has always made her feel that what she was right now was enough: her just being that clumsy, overdramatic ball of energy.

But at night, Elsa was quieter, more relaxed. She wasn’t playing the part of a princess, or any other part at all. At night, Elsa was just Elsa. That lovely girl with the soft smile and gentle eyes that Anna adored with all her heart.

It was easy to forget at night, when everything was still and there was only Elsa and her.

They were sitting by the windowsill, looking at the constellations spread out in the sky, with Anna sitting on Elsa’s lap.

“A duck! A duck!” she squealed, though keeping her voice low. It just didn’t seem right to be as loud as she was in the daytime.

Elsa chuckled. “Close enough. That’s Cygnus.”

“Sea… noose?”

“Cygnus. But you can call it anything you want.”

“Gerda!” Anna twisted her body to look at Elsa. “Gerda! Her name’s Gerda!”

Elsa smiled. “Gerda it is.”

Anna paused, looking at Elsa’s smile. No matter how many times she had seen it, the sight always made her heart swell. She turned around fully until she was facing Elsa.

“Anna?” Elsa tilted her head to the side.

And because it just felt right, Anna threw her chubby little arms around Elsa’s neck. She heard Elsa squeak in surprise but it only took a moment before she was wrapping her arms around Anna’s middle.

Anna drew back a little then declared, “I love you, Elsa” before pressing a quick sloppy kiss on Elsa’s lips.

When Anna pulled back, she saw that Elsa’s brows were raised. But, just like before, her expression softened and a slow smile appeared on her face. “I love you, too, Anna.”

Anna giggled before turning around again and returning to her original position. After a while, she resumed pointing out stars and naming them, with Elsa humming a note in response.

It didn’t take long before Anna fell asleep in Elsa’s arms, dreaming of endless blue.

**

 

_“Her comb moves_   
_from the top of my head_   
_to the tip of my spine,_   
_directing the waves_   
_where to go, her fingers_   
_gentle on the entangled strands,_   
_coaxing them to flow,_   
_flow down_   
_where the gravity pulls.”_

—Bedtime, Conchitina Cruz

For as long as Anna could remember, Elsa brushed her hair each night as they were preparing to go to bed. She would sit on a stool in front of the dresser while Elsa would stand behind her. It wasn’t as if Anna didn’t like this nightly ritual, but it was just too still and silent and she would have loved it better if they could make use of the remaining time of the day—or night, rather, doing something fun like playing or building a snowman.

So one night, she asked: “Why do we have to brush our hair when we’re just going to sleep?”

“Because,” Elsa said, sliding the brush down Anna’s short copper hair, “it makes us sleep better.”

Anna crinkled her brows at her reflection in the dresser mirror. She could make out her sister standing behind her, gently pulling out the knots in her hair. Elsa was intent on her task and didn’t see Anna’s frown, but it didn’t matter. It disappeared as Anna continued looking at her sister. There was something so calm and peaceful in Elsa’s expression that made Anna close her eyes and just relish the feeling of the soothing motions of the brush and Elsa’s fingers on her hair. She found herself almost dozing when Elsa spoke.

“All right, we’re done.”

Anna’s eyes fluttered open. Elsa was smiling at their reflection in the mirror. Despite nearly falling asleep, Anna found herself wide awake now that she had opened her eyes. She turned around on the stool to face Elsa.

She reached for the brush on Elsa’s hand. “I want to brush your hair, too!”

Elsa eyed her doubtfully. “Are you sure? You’re not sleepy?”

Anna shook her head. “I want to brush your hair, too,” she repeated, adding a petulant pout for good measure, which only made Elsa laugh.

“All right.” Elsa handed the brush over to Anna. “Come, let’s sit on the bed.”

“Why not here?”

“Because,” said Elsa with a smile, “you won’t be able to reach if I sit on the stool.”

Anna, clutching the brush to her chest, followed Elsa to her bed. It was still a bit too high for Anna to clamber onto, so Elsa wrapped her arms around Anna’s middle and hoisted her up. Anna giggled before crawling to the head of the bed.

“Come on, Elsa!” she squealed, bouncing up and down the mattress.

Elsa pressed a finger against her lips. “Not so loud, Anna.” Then she crawled to the spot just in front of Anna, her back to the moonlight. Her hair had already been braided, having done her hair first before brushing Anna’s. But she removed her headband and pulled the blue tie holding her braid, letting loose her pale blond hair that gleamed in the moonlight.

The sight made Anna hold her breath. Elsa’s hair was so pale and beautiful that Anna could swear that it was made of moonbeams itself. She reached out to touch the gentle waves of Elsa’s hair and found it to be soft and smooth. She then buried her face in it, loving the way it felt so gentle on her skin, and the way it smelled so good, the scent of lilac and of _Elsa, Elsa, Elsa_.

“Anna?” Elsa twisted around. “What are you doing?”

“Smelling your hair,” Anna answered, as she slowly, reluctantly pulled back. “Your hair smells great, Elsa.”

Elsa laughed. “Thank you, but didn’t you say you wanted to brush my hair?”

“I do! I do!” Anna settled down and Elsa turned to face front again. Anna knitted her brows in concentration then she gripped the handle of the brush. She switched to a kneeling position when she found she couldn’t reach the top of Elsa’s head sitting down. Then taking a deep breath, she pressed the brush against Elsa’s hair, surprised at how easily it flowed through the bristles. Anna couldn’t help but marvel at the fine strands of Elsa’s hair, and so she held a few in her fingers, acting as a guide for the brush, but really, Anna just wanted to feel them, feel their softness.

“Your hair’s really beautiful, Elsa,” Anna breathed out.

“So is yours.”

“But, your hair’s so pale and fine. It’s like the moon.”

“And your hair is like the sunset. Warm and glowing. I love your hair, Anna.”

Anna blushed, and she found her hand moving faster. “I love yours, too!”

Elsa then began humming as Anna continued brushing her hair. When she felt her arm going sore, she plopped back on the mattress. “I’m exhausted!”

Elsa laughed as she turned around to face her. “It gets easier with practice.”

Then Elsa gathered her hair together and started braiding it again. Anna looked on with rapt attention as the gentle waves of Elsa’s hair turned into a neat braid.

“That’s amazing!”Anna clapped her hands in glee. “Will you teach me how to do that?”

“Of course.” Elsa reached out to touch Anna’s short hair. “When your hair gets a bit longer, you might want to braid it, too.”

“You can braid mine, and I’ll braid yours!”

Elsa smiled. “It’s a promise.” Then her eyes fluttered as she stifled a yawn. “But now, we have to go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Anna paused. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Only if you promise not to move too much.”

Anna grinned. “Still as a starfish!”

Elsa raised a brow at that but didn’t say anything more. She moved nearer to the pillows and beckoned Anna to do the same. Together, they pulled back the covers and crawled underneath them. Elsa shifted until she was lying comfortably on her back. Just as she was closing her eyes, Anna whispered to her.

“Elsa!”

“What?” Elsa mumbled.

“Can we hug each other until I fall asleep?”

“You’re clingy tonight,” Elsa remarked as she cracked an eye open. She turned on her side so she was facing Anna.

Anna gave her a big toothy grin. “Aren’t I always?”

Elsa giggled. “Good point.” She raised her arm. “All right then, come here, you snugglebug.”

Anna wriggled closer until she was pressed up against her sister. She threw an arm around Elsa, while the other she tucked between them. Elsa rested her arm above Anna’s, and it wasn’t long before her breathing evened out.

Just before Anna followed her sister’s example, she couldn’t help but peek down where her and Elsa’s arm intertwined. Being this close to Elsa always made her chest warm, and as she drifted off to sleep, she wished that her dreams would braid with Elsa’s so that they could still be together even in sleep.

**

_“Still life is dancing life. The dancing life of light.”_

—Sexing the Cherry, Jeanette Winterson

In Anna’s eyes, Elsa was perfect.

By the time she was five, Elsa had already perfected all the graces expected from a princess. She knew their kingdom’s geography by heart, could recite the line of descendants from their very first ancestor, could drink tea without spilling it, could eat without making a mess in her plate, could meet the crowd with a wave and a smile, could curtsy in front of visiting ambassadors without tripping on her feet.

(Anna could do none of these things but despite it all, Elsa would tell her it was all right. And together, they would make fun of these expectations on what a princess should be or do.

Elsa would always whisper to her in the end, “But you and me, we know better.”)

But most of all, Elsa could dance.

They have a dance instructor who came over twice a week to teach the young princesses on the different dances. Anna was always excited for these lessons, despite the fact that she was the clumsiest thing to have ever been born and she would slip and slide and trip on the ballroom floor.

But Elsa, Elsa was different.

Elsa moved with graceful ease, her feet steady beneath her, always knowing where to go, which step to take, which direction to move. She moved fluidly with their instructor, her small body lending itself to the movement of the music like flowing water.

Anna loved to watch her dance. She spent many of the lessons just watching them, watching Elsa dance like the perfect princess she was.

It engendered a wish in her heart. So one night, as Elsa was brushing her hair, she asked. “Elsa? Will you teach me to dance?”

Elsa glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “What do you mean, Anna? Sir Klaus teaches us dance every Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“Yes, but I can’t seem to learn it when he teaches it. I think I’ll learn better if _you_ teach it.” Anna paused. “You dance so well, Elsa.”

Elsa met Anna’s eyes in the mirror. She smiled. “Thank you, Anna. But you know you don’t have to learn it if you don’t really want to.”

Anna shook her head, making Elsa pause in her brushing. “I want to!” Then shyly, she mumbled, “I want to be able to dance with you.”

A look of surprise crossed Elsa’s face and she was speechless for a moment. Then a soft smile appeared on her lips. “All right, then. As you wish.”

They made their way to the ballroom, with Anna nearly falling off the stairs with how much she was bouncing up and down in excitement. Elsa just laughed and told her in hushed whisper to slow down.

When they finally reached the ballroom, Anna ran to the center of the room and twirled around. “Come on, Elsa! Come on, come on!”

“Coming,” said Elsa as she gently closed the doors, coating the jamb with ice to make them slide silently.

When Elsa finally joined her in the middle of the room, Anna couldn’t suppress an excited squeal, making Elsa press a finger to her lips. “Not so loud, Anna. Everybody’s asleep.”

Anna bobbed her head up and down to show that she understood. When Elsa leaned back, Anna asked in a hushed voice, “But what about the music?”

“We can just listen to the music inside our heads. You remember it, right?”

Anna shook her head, making Elsa sigh but she was also smiling.

“I’ll hum it then.” She took Anna’s hand in her own and placed the other in her waist. “Ready?” she asked. When Anna nodded, Elsa began humming the tune of a waltz. They started moving, gliding around the ballroom. At first, Anna stumbled on her steps but Elsa patiently guided her which foot to move first and then matching Anna’s pace.

After a few minutes, Anna stopped and shook her head.

“What’s wrong, Anna?”

Still shaking her head, Anna answered in a voice that threatened to break in tears, “I can’t follow the music.”

“Oh.” Elsa furrowed her brows in thought. Then an idea struck her. She knelt before Anna and lifted her chin with her fingers. “Don’t cry, Anna. I have an idea.”

Then with a flourish of her hand, snow began falling around them, swirling around the ballroom with a slow grace. Anna’s eyes went wide as she took in the sight.

Elsa took Anna’s hands again. “Just follow the snow,” she said with a grin.

Anna nodded her head before matching Elsa’s grin with her own. They started moving again, dancing with the snow and Anna found that she was able to follow the movements more readily  this time. For the first few minutes, she watched the snow just as Elsa told her to so that she could follow their rhythm but soon, her eyes were drawn back to Elsa.

After all, the best thing about dancing with Elsa was Elsa herself.

Anna watched as the blue shadows and moonlight vied for the chance to touch Elsa’s face. She watched as some of the snow landed on Elsa’s pale hair, glistening like stars. She watched as those clear blue eyes, the color of frozen water, looked back at her with such fondness that made Anna’s heart swell.

She remembered their instructor telling them one afternoon that they should just feel the music. Anna was feeling it now, and so she wrapped her arms around Elsa and held her tight.

“Anna?”

But Anna didn’t speak and just carried on dancing like before, only now she was holding Elsa close. Elsa caught on and she wrapped her arms around Anna, too.

Together, they danced and danced and danced with the moonlight and blue shadows and the falling snow.

As Anna buried her face in Elsa’s chest, she became aware of the warmth wrapped around her. Elsa’s warmth, which should seem at odds with her powers, but somehow made perfect sense.

And it dawned on Anna: Elsa was her own blue; she was the blue of warmth.


End file.
